Road test: 2006 Chevrolet HHR

SUV Review: 2006 Chevrolet HHR

The timing of the Chevrolet HHR — which stands for Heritage High Roof — is curious, because many consider the Chrysler PT Cruiser to be in the twilight of its run. So, launching a direct competitor at this point — at least on the surface — seems rather redundant. Mind you, its very existence should come as no surprise, as Bob Lutz is the man behind both vehicles.

The HHR blends past with present — the old part being inspired by the 1949 Chevy Suburban, the new by the outlandishly funky SSR. The result is a vehicle that is a boxy-but-loud combination of the two extremes. Some people find the look pleasing but, unfortunately, the majority find it, well, less than handsome. One thing is for sure, though — it has road presence. In terms of practicality, the HHR lives up to its billing. With the rear seats down, there is 55.6 cubic feet of space — 63.1 cu. ft. with the seat removed, which, given its external dimensions, is generous. There are also some handy features. The seat backs are formed from a durable plastic. When folded flat, they bring a near-gapless load floor (many cars tend to have large gaps between the various bits, which is where the small stuff disappears). As for additional storage, it is not only dotted throughout the cabin, a 127-millimetres-deep bin below the load floor carries an additional 2.8 cu. ft. of stuff, and there are a couple of small cubbies between the spare tire cover and seat back.

Then there are the tricks the cover can do: It can be installed so the floor is flat, flipped over to reveal some handy cargo tie-downs and raised to a level near the base of the rear side windows, which provides a hard privacy cover and/or a bi-level storage system. The front passenger seat also folds forward, which allows an eight-foot ladder to be carried inside the vehicle with the tailgate closed.

As for drawbacks, there are two — one major, the other minor. The biggest flaw is that the tailgate does not open high enough. At 5-foot-10, I cannot stand beneath the tailgate without ducking, so my head and the hard plastic cover on the inside of it became great friends — and I have the bruises to prove it. If you are taller than 6-feet, you will become intimately acquainted with the pointed edge of the tailgate, so be warned. The other quibble has to do with the placement of the power window switches: Putting them at the base of the centre stack and not on the door is dumb. And there is no dead pedal, only a squishy piece of carpet that provides no support whatsoever.

The remainder of the interior is a pleasant place — decent materials, a good-looking set of instruments, comfortable seats (with ample headroom and legroom in all spots) and a commanding view of the road ahead thanks to the elevated seating position. In other words, it mirrors the PT Cruiser in just about all it does and can do.

When it comes to power, there are two apt descriptors — enough and lacking. The up-level LT model gets a 2.4-litre engine that pushes 172 horsepower and 162 pound-feet of torque through a five-speed manual to the front wheels. This delivers spirited, if far from fast, performance. The LS tester was equipped with a 2.2L version of GM’s Ecotec engine minus the variable valve timing used on its larger sibling. As a result, it puts only 143 horses and 150 lb-ft of torque at the driver’s disposal. Consequently, getting from rest to 100 kilometres takes a while — 10.6 seconds, to be exact. Likewise, it takes 9.1 seconds to get from a canter to a full gallop (80-120 km/h). This is with the manual gearbox — the automatic transmission is going to blunt performance even further. The 2.2 did, however, return a good 9.2 litres per 100 km test average.

As for handling, well, the LS takes cruising comfort to heart. The front struts and the semi-independent rear torsion beam suspensions allow quite a lot of body roll at moderate speeds, in spite of the anti-roll bars at both ends. Ramp it up to true corner-carving velocities and tire squeal and understeer become constant companions. Having said that, considering its position in life — part wagon, part SUV — the HHR is more than a match for anything in this category.

The saving grace is the Cobalt-derived platform, as it gives the car a solid feel. Hopefully, when the HHR SS — or whatever label GM pins to the inevitable supercharged version — arrives, it will come with a derivative of the Cobalt SS’s firm, European-like suspension and fatter tires.

Obviously, the comparisons between the PT Cruiser and HHR are inevitable: They are very close in size, both tout versatility and practicality as critical features and they share outspoken styling cues.

A quick back-to-back test of the HHR and a base PT Cruiser revealed other strong similarities. Neither is particularly adept at cornering, although both are very good at soaking up rough roads, and both are underpowered in base form. Finally, the HHR LS and the naturally aspirated PT Cruiser require extra air bags and anti-lock brakes to be added after the fact. Pity.

Only time will tell exactly how well the HHR will be received. However, one thing seems clear — at least from the reaction to the vehicle during a week-long test: It will either be a relative success or it will be destined to fade into history in much the same manner as the ugly-but-highly-practical Pontiac Aztek.